third time's the charm
by pumpkinpickles
Summary: A reincarnation AU where Atem is an A-list movie star/singer, Set and Afekia are a world famous duet for classical piano and violin respectively. Drabble series in which the three of them get into dumb shenanigans and make out, sprinkled with the occasional angst. Also features their families sometimes. (no one is related, incest is gross)
1. forget me not

"Fuck me," Set breathes.

And Atem gladly would have, if, Set isn't drunk, and he himself isn't drunk.

So he offers a tipsy smile instead. Noses his partner's cheek. Feels Set sink into the mattress with a sigh, arms curling around his waist. Stretches out on the bed. Allows the silk sheets slide over his legs. Wrapping his tanned legs round and over Set's long pale ones, thighs squeezing.

"Mmm, i'd love to but..," Atem trails off, placing a misaimed kiss on the corner of Set's lips, feeling his own lips curve up when Set giggles breathlessly at the kiss.

Thanks every God he knows - including himself, mockingly, ironically - that Set is a happy drunk, that Set is a lightweight, that the wrinkles between Set's brows are dispersed with butterfly kisses and alcohol.

Angling his face to sloppily catch Atem's lips, though Set seemed more content smiling against Atem's lips than doing any actual kissing.

"I missed you." Set murmurs, softly kissing Atem with every word.

Atem tries to say, "Me too," but the words feel slurred and won't come out right. Nuzzling Set's forehead, a low hum is made instead.

Shifting closer, closer, _closer_ , until their breaths intermingle.

Atem greedily steals a long kiss, parting his lips, lazily slipping his tongue into the other's mouth. Set giggled again, eagerly pressing back, making Atem's own smile tug wider, runs a hand through the other's tangled brown locks.

He liked that sound. Low and guttural yet bright and full of life. Wishes Set would laugh so comfortably on a usual basis. Wishes Set wasn't made up of pent up stress and cigarette smoke.

Wishes Set could lie beside him, curled together, with tomorrow an afterthought and lust a current, washing over both until hands curled into sheets and noiseless sounds erupted from throats - forever, and ever, and ever.

Atem took his time savouring Set's taste, bitter wine and tobacco; oaths kept, promises broken and salt, so, so much salt.

Interlaced their fingers. Until Set parted from the kiss first, panting, a shine in his eyes tinged orange from the overhanging lights.

Leaning down to plant kisses along Set's jaw, caressing his neck. Atem knows Set blushes with every part of his body except his face. Nips a reddening ear. Hears Set's startled gasp, bites harder to earn a stifled moan and a face buried in the crook on his neck.

"...Don't think...the wine is helping you...sleep..." Atem laughs, feathering lips over Set's cheeks.

"Insomniac," Set brushes off, sighing at the sensation of Atem's hands ghosting his back. Pressing into kinks he didn't know he had. Melting into his arms.

Set slid lower into the bed. Presses a kiss on Atem's jaw, earning a surprised chuckle. Let Atem feed him more grapes. Licked his fingers clean, inviting and tantalizing.

"Tease." Atem whispers. Cradling Set's chin with one hand. Fingers dancing over his cheek. Watching his eyes slip shut, a gusty breath escaping his lips, running over his hand.

"More wine?" Set asks, a lopsided smile decorating his face.

"Only if you let me feed it to you." A teasing lilt in his voice. A raised brow in return.

"Oh, to be served by a once great pharaoh, what a great honour." Another charming laugh. No mockery in his words, unlike his usual biting remarks. Half-lidded eyes gazing fondly, lovingly, reserved only for Atem's eyes. A look Atem greedily hoarded to himself.

Taking a mouthful of wine, Atem beckons to Set, who gives him an incredulous look, brain dulled by the wine and unable to catch up with Atem's intentions. Pushes himself up, only to meet Atem's lips. Parting mouth in surprise, tasting rich wine and Atem's tongue again.

Wine trickling down both chins, staining silk and lips that glides and smacks clumsily. Atem's tongue licking up Set's chin as the other swallows, trailing along the stray wine path until he meets Set's mouth once more.

"Oh." Is all Set could manage. So this is what you meant, goes unsaid, lost in the throes of his drunken haze. Mind only able to focus on Atem's hands cradling his face. On the teeth clacking against one another awkwardly, painfully. On the laughter that bubbles from Atem's throat at his miserable attempt at luring Set into a more sensual kiss.

"Terrible." Set finally says. One hand cupping the back of Atem's neck, the other hand's fingertips massaging his own lips. Unable to hide the mischievous smile behind his pianist fingers. "Just, terrible."

Atem laughs, again, airy and delightful. Sound like a waterfall running over Set's parched desert soul. Takes the hand upon lips in his own. Delicately bringing his own chapped lips to the knuckles.

"My sincerest apologies, princess." Places kisses on each knuckle, running his thumb over the boney fingers. Hears Set's laugh ring in his ears, takes the timing to steal a kiss on Set's chin. "Forgive me?"

"Cheat." Set murmurs back, affectionately kissing the shorter man's forehead, who leans up, grins.

"You still love me." Shifts upwards to share an eskimo kiss, releases Set's hands from his lips only to capture and tangle it with his hand. Hypnotised by the long eyelashes shyly fluttering, the glimmer in those azure orbs intoxicating as the red splashed across shirt and silk.

"I have for over three thousand years." The free hand of the pianist roams. Finds the thundering beat of his lover's heart beneath his palm. Closes the distance between them, lips twitching into a smile as a low sigh is felt before the kiss is reciprocated.

Moonlight pours from the balcony, clashing with the dull yellow-orange bedside lights, bathes the figures entangled on the bed. Illuminates both sets of eyes, deeply entrenched in one another.

"More wine?"

"Please."

* * *

A/N: this is supposed to be a literal reincarnation au that has nothing whatsoever to do with the DM plotline, which will be explored in a series of one shots/drabbles uvu


	2. to live is to forgive(i beg to differ)

_forgiving people for hurting you is never easy, but it's a lot harder when the sin to forgive is killing your entire village and melting them in pots of gold to make fancy jewelry._

 _(Or: Atem finally apologises after 3000 years, and Afekia wants to tell him to eat shit and fuck off)_

* * *

In the first life, he learns anger, hatred, and the sadistic joy that comes with power; feels his veins surge with giddy adrenaline whenever sticky blood drenches his hands. His empty laughter echoes in the halls, rattles the very core of every bowed priest, heads rolling in the courtyard fresher than the grapes brought into the kingdom at dawn.

In his second, he learns unconditional love, of kindness and the strength it possesses, stronger than hate, stronger than the burning spur of revenge; feels sick to his gut at the blood that drips from his hands. But he turns away from it just because he can, yet knows he does so because he is still nothing but a coward.

In his third, he learns of understanding; washes off the blood from his hands, but the heavy stench burns his nostrils and stabbing the back of his eyes. They were not his sins, but he inherited them and he will bear them, weighing heavy on his shoulders like gold once did.

The feeling of guilt never goes away, but it ebbs, with each forgiving touch and word.

He learns, and learns, and learns more.

But most of all, he learns to forgive.

 _(and seeks it too.)_

* * *

Atem clutches hold of Afekia's elbow, ignores the frenzied flashes of the cameras that surround the both of them. Eyes wide, he gasps a phrase that has been lying on the tip of his tongue for years, long overdue for centuries.

" _I'm sorry."_

* * *

"...And what am I supposed to do? Forgive him?" Afekia barks, kicking over a music stand.

The clatter of the metal contraption and sheets of paper sent flying into the air earns nothing from Set.

"I'm sorry." Afekia mimics, clamping his hands together and simpering. "I'm sorry, poor little Afekia, pitiful little Afekia."

In a bout of fury, Afekia spins on his heel and slams a fist into the wall, lowly uttering through grinded teeth, "I don't need his pity."

Something in Set seems to rouse from this sentence, as he calmly stands to collect the fallen music sheets, carefully picking them up to avoid any unnecessary creasing.

"I don't believe his apology was said out of pity." Set speaks, voice steady.

Afekia rolled his eyes.

"Oh, of course you'd say that. You're his majesty's loyal dog. _You'd_ never bite your master, even if he feeds you shit." Afekia spits bitingly, splaying his arms wide.

The papers in Set's hands crinkle slightly, but he is quick to smooth them out.

"He is not a pharaoh, nor am I his priest, Afekia. Same as how you are no longer a lowly thief." Set pauses, flipping through the sheets deftly to ensure he has collected the full score.

"I simply speak from my understanding of him from this life. He is a prideful man, an aspect of his personality I'm afraid we'll never escape. For him to apologise the moment he laid eyes on you must mean something more."

The unspoken words, "You know that too.", linger in the air.

For a moment, the only sound that fills the room is paper shuffling and heavy breathing.

Then Afekia groans, crashes on the ground with a loud thump.

"So what do I _do_?" He growls, carving half moons into his palm, barely breaking the skin.

Setting down the stack of papers, Set strides over, drops to one knee by the violinist.

"First of all, stop trying to ruin your hands. We have a performance tonight and I will not have you turn it into a disaster by abandoning me to be alone in the spotlight because your hands are too busy bleeding out to perform." Prying Afekia's fingers out of their determined fists, Set holds both hands for a moment, running thumbs over palms before letting go.

"Next, think it through. Take your time. He's made you wait long enough as it is." Set says cooly. "No matter what your answer is, he will accept it. He has to. Even if it is not an answer he wants to hear."

"You're not going to tell me to forgive him?" Afekia asks, eyebrows raised high enough to be hidden beneath his untidy fringe.

Set stands up, dusts himself off.

"I'm not that selfish." He murmurs softly.

 _("I'm sorry, too.")_


	3. camera angry

_(continuation of the precious drabble; and in which Afekia doesn't really understand why the term "camera angry" doesn't exist for people who are not at all shy in front of cameras, just very very pissed off. Very, pissed off.)_

* * *

The performance is over.

One step out into the crisp night air and the flashes of the cameras blind them. Paparazzi pour in from all directions, overflowing with questions that revolve around "Atem", "your latest album", "Atem", "your connection with the up and coming movie star, mister Afekia, what is it?", "Atem", and Afekia is as close from snapping the neck of the next reporter who tries to shove a recorder in his face as Set is.

Set's face is much more pinched than usual, exasperation pulling at the corners of his lips. Yet his stride is as confident as ever, eyes staring straight ahead.

Trust Set to be able to appear like getting mobbed by the paparazzi was something as common as taking a piss in the morning.

Oh, _wait_.

But that didn't _mean_ that it was any less annoying.

The thought of bodily pushing the paparazzi away - maybe even causing one to fall and create a domino effect, now that'd be priceless - entices Afekia, but is quickly banished when he feels Set's subtle pinch to his side.

The warning glare the pianist sends the violinist makes him turn his head away, clicking his tongue annoyedly.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, he wonders if Set is ever thankful for the ten foot pole rammed up his ass to help keep his back straight all the time.

Suddenly, a reporter got the great idea to shove an entire television camera right into Set's face, all while screaming questions till their lungs were ready to burst, fighting to be heard over the rest of the din.

Startled, Set blinks, falters a step, stumbling backwards.

That was _it_.

Afekia's face twists uglily, an arm quickly shot out to break the fall, sidling around the thin waist to anchor the pianist.

It was one thing to bombard _him_ with questions for _his_ own actions, but dragging others into his mess was really not his style.

"Back off!" Afekia yelled straight into the camera, making a huge sweeping gesture with his free arm, teeth bared menacingly.

Silence fell, apart from a few brave souls who still attempted to snap a few shots.

"We have no comment on anything, got it?" Afekia hisses, arm tightening around Set's waist. "Now get the fuck out of our way."

Instantly, a path appears.

"Thanks, Moses." Set says under his breath once they were out of earshot.

Afekia snorted, pushing Set into the waiting car. The car door shuts behind them with a loud, satisfying slam.

"No take backs. Even after you see what they write on the tabloids tomorrow." Afekia replies, throwing Set a toothy grin, fingers dancing on the edge of Set's hip, arm still snug around his waist.

Set rolls his eyes.

"Nothing can beat the time you smashed that violin and stalked out the performance hall with three hundred and fifty witnesses, then got thrown into jail for public harassment, I would think."


End file.
